


routine

by yeosangly



Category: Bird Box - Josh Malerman, K-pop, Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Angst, Bird Box Au, How Do I Tag, M/M, Manipulation, Mentions of Suicide, Mentions of blood and violence, and honestly that's it ig??, because angst is good, horror maybe?? idk, i apologize for any grammar mistakes, pls read i spend a lot of time on this and im kinda proud, the summary is also bad im sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-10-13 07:08:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20578493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeosangly/pseuds/yeosangly
Summary: Living like this was hard, there was no doubt. All days were the same, with the smell of danger in the air and the lack of food and human contact. Their lives had become an ongoing circle from sunrise to sunset, but Chan wasn't one to mind it all that much.It was a routine. And he liked routines.Except when something messes them up in the worst possible way.





	routine

**Author's Note:**

> hi!!... so,, this is the first fic i post after months so pls be nice ,,,  
it was a lot of fun though cause i challenged myself quite a lot with it and im happy with how it came out!! i hope you enjoy it too!
> 
> big thanks to rene ([ao3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elesteria) | [twt](https://twitter.com/Elesteria)) for beta reading this!! <33

It was a routine.

Get up, reach out next to you to feel the calming warmth of your partner on the mattress, ignore the panic filling your body and open your eyes cautiously. Hope that you're going to be lucky enough not to see somethingthat could put you in danger and proceed with your day once you've made sure that there was nothing scary in the room. Carefully check if the windows are covered with the same old newspapers and those dusty blankets that you and your lover once used whenever you had picnics under the light of the sun, admiring the nature around with bright, glistening and full of admiration eyes; something that you could no longer do.

The next day was the same. And the next one. And the one after that, the cycle repeating over and over until you went _insane_.

It was a routine. And Chan liked routines.

They fooled him into thinking that he had his life under control, organized, helping him cope with the reality that humankind had been forced to live with: not being able to go outside without fear that _something_ could be out there, waiting for its next victim.

Both Changbin and him hadn't seen another person in years, since the first time _it_ had made an appearance. They'd been lucky enough to catch onto the frightening news the very second they had leaked—and Chan, being his usual collected and bossy-like self, had needed less than half an hour to gather their belongings of crucial importance. His heart had felt heavy as he'd been forced to leave behind hundreds of possessions with sentimental value. He had no choice, though. Their lives were put in danger, and Chan had to try his best to protect not only himself, but his lover too.

The hard part had been convincing Changbin that they really were facing something perilous, something _deadly_. The younger man had made it clear that he didn't believe any of the rumors the slightest—even though the source they came from was one of the most reliable ones—and if it hadn't been for how genuinely _terrified_ Chan had seemed, he probably wouldn't have given in. Though, it _had_ taken an argument to get the boy to agree, as much as Chan tried to avoid it.

And, just like that, with nothing but an improvised survival-kit, the couple had left behind their old life—one of them being uncertain, doubtful, and only having trust in his lover, and the other one wondering how long they would manage to stay alive.

Changbin's doubt hadn't lasted long, though.

Chan still vividly remembered.

➵

** _[Two years ago.]_ **

The drive to Chan's grandparents' house was accompanied by thick, heavy silence to the point where both boys could practically cut the tension with a knife. Neither of them liked it—arguing wasn't common in their relationship, and both of them kept shifting in their seats uncomfortably. They could easily make up by just talking it out, but their pride and stubbornness didn't allow it. They didn't want to seem like the weaker one, though they knew it was kind of stupid.

Especially during times like _this_.

Chan scolded himself silently for not holding back and accidentally yelling at Changbin—the apocalypse, or whatever it was, had just started and the two of them were already arguing. It wasn't a pleasant thing to happen, and he wasn't surprised that he felt his chest tighten with guilt and worry.

He sighed as he watched the other boy put on his headphones, music playing loud enough for Chan to hear as well—it was a surprise Changbin hadn't gone deaf. He always turned the volume all the way up whenever he was angry—Chan could only be glad that they rarely fought, so the younger didn't get a lot of chances to strain his hearing.

Chan let a few minutes pass in silence—he simply kept driving, looking straight ahead and not even paying attention to the pedestrians or the cars that passed them. There were barely any, which wasn't surprising—they were currently driving down a small road that was rarely used because of the poor condition it was in.

The silence couldn't go on forever, though. They had to stop acting like children and talk about what they were going to do—it was of crucial importance. Their lives—quite literally—depended on it.

Chan lifted his arm from the steering wheel to take off the headphones from the younger's head, throwing them in the backseat and ignoring the offended 'hey!' that came from Changbin.

"I was using those, if you didn't know," the short boy scoffed with a pout, arms crossed in front of his chest.

"I do, but we need to talk." Chan glanced to his lover quickly, being careful not to look away from the road for too long. Having a car accident was the last thing they needed right now, with such great danger approaching.

Changbin snickered mockingly, resting his head against the cold surface of the window. "Yeah, right. As if you'd _actually_ listen to me."

Chan blinked away the tear that threatened to fall and took a deep breath, trying to collect his thoughts. He knew Changbin didn't necessarily _mean_ bad—he was just annoyed by the recent events.

He licked his lips, searching for the right words to say. "Look, Binnie-" Chan started unsurely only to be cut off by Changbin whose voice was full of anger.

"Don't even _start_. I know you just want us to be safe, but is this really the right way? The attacks were in Europe. _Europe_, Chan. And we're in _Korea_. If we have to trust Google, that's—" he paused, taking out his phone and typing for a few seconds. "That's more than 8,000 _kilometers_ away," Changbin more or less growled, picking at his nails secretly—the situation had begun to scare him too, but he didn't want to admit it out loud.

Chan winced at his harsh tone, his grip on the wheel visibly tightening. "I know that, but we can't take any chances. We don't know how fast that-that _thing_ moves. I can't risk putting you in any danger, Changbin," he croaked out through a sniff, wiping a tear that slipped from his eye.

The younger male sighed, burying his face between his palms. "Yeah, I get that, but why do you think that your grandparents' place is going to be safer than our apartment in the city? If anything, we'll have less food there."

"You have a point, but think about it—all the attacks we heard about were in the largest cities of each country those things have made an appearance in. They probably want to kill, so they'd go for the places with the biggest population—and I don't think I have to remind you that our apartment was in Busan," Chan explained quickly. "The city with the largest population in Korea after Seoul, if you didn't know."

Changbin nodded at his words, but the older could see that something else was bugging him.

Changbin shifted in his seat uncomfortably, secretly looking at his boyfriend. "Okay, I get that," he mumbled, anger still hidden behind his words, "but why couldn't we at least go pick up our _parents_? Are you just gonna let them handle whatever _this_ is on their own? They _need_ us—we _can't—_"

"Because that thing has already reached them, okay?" Chan spluttered, tone higher than usual—a clear sign that he could burst into tears at any moment. "I called my dad before we left the house with that exact thought—to pick them up—but he said that we shouldn't go there because there were already mass suicides in Seoul. And still, no one knows what's causing them, or at least they don't know _how_ it affects people. I tried calling your parents too, but they wouldn't pick up—I don't know if you've contacted them and if yes, I don't know what they said, but mine insisted that we shouldn't waste any time."

Changbin froze upon hearing Chan's words. Had his boyfriend told the truth? Had that thing actually reached Korea?

"I wasn—"

"I know you weren't aware. I didn't wanna tell you 'cause I didn't want you to worry, but here we are, I guess." A few tears fell from Chan's eyes, streaming down his pale cheeks. Changbin reached out to wipe them, his own gaze getting clouded from the salty liquid.

Chan blinked a few times, trying to avoid crying in front of the other. "I hate that I asked them to come live in Korea," he mumbled quietly, voice breaking.

"It's not your fault that this happened, Chan. You couldn't have known that something like this could happen, okay?" Changbin tried to comfort the older, lacing their fingers and squeezing the boy's arm softly. "Plus, at the speed that _creature_ is moving with, it'll reach Australia in no time."

Chan didn't reply—not verbally, at least. He only nodded, looking straight ahead. His eyes fell on the distant figure of a woman walking down the sidewalk—the only person they'd seen in the past few minutes. Chan couldn't help but shiver at that, letting go of the younger's hand and placing it on the steering wheel as Changbin kept talking.

"I-I actually texted mom. She said the same—that-that we should just go," the boy murmured, shrinking into himself and appearing even smaller than usual. "She didn't mention anything about mass suicides, though. So I didn't know that the-the _thing_ was already in Korea."

Chan sighed, hand finding its way to Changbin's thigh to squeeze it reassuringly. "I'm sorry, baby. I know that it hurts, and believe me, it was hard to make this decision." He shifted his gaze to look at the younger, heart dropping at the sight of Changbin's tear-stained cheeks. "I didn't want to leave my parents behind as well—"

"Watch out!"

Changbin's shriek startled Chan, snapping his attention back to the road only to have his breath hitch at the scene unfolding in front of them: the same woman who'd been peacefully walking, smiling at her phone, had suddenly jumped in front of their car, and it was a miracle that Changbin warned Chan on time. The boy rapidly twisted the wheel to the right, slamming his foot on the breaks, the action causing both him and Changbin to jerk forward hard enough for the seat belts to dig into the skin of their bodies, desperately trying to hold the boys in place. Thankfully, there weren't any other cars on the road or this could've converted into something messy. Chan tried not to think about it.

The echo from the tires' screech and the heavy breathing coming from both boys was the only thing that could be heard in the tense air. If it hadn't been for Changbin's scream, they would've hit a person. They could've _killed_ a person.

Neither of them spoke—they were trembling, sweat running down their foreheads, and the same blood-curdling thought circled their minds.

Did that woman jump in front of the car upon her own will? If so, _why_ would she do it?

Or was she affected by something—_that_ thing?

Chan coughed awkwardly, breaking the heavy silence surrounding them. He parted his lips, about to say something—probably ask Changbin if he was okay—only to be cut off by a loud slam that came from the back of the car. The two of them jumped in their seats and Chan snapped his head to the side to look at the younger, only to discover that Changbin was already staring at him, fear evident on his face.

"What-what was that?" Changbin questioned, voice shaking as he squeaked out the words with difficulty.

Before Chan could answer, they heard the sound again—this time closer to Changbin's side, and Chan swallowed the lump in his throat before carefully searching for the source of the thumps, breath quickening in panic. He let out a gasp the moment his eyes met another pair of glowing, unnaturally bright ones.

It was the woman who'd jumped in front of their car.

She was banging her head against the vehicle, and her face was slowly getting covered with more and more blood dripping down from her forehead once the window of the car broke and cut through her skin. Changbin screamed, the sound getting muffled in Chan's hand as he used it to cover the younger's mouth.

"We-we don't want to attract more attention towards us," Chan whispered frantically, drawing his palm away from Changbin before he opened the door and walked out. He was terrified, but he couldn't leave the woman like this.

It would be _inhumane_.

Chan walked to the other side of the car, approaching the female with cautious steps, gaze fixed on her body in fear of seeing something _else_ if he looked around. "Hey, hey, stop that," he spoke, reaching out to grasp her hand to try to prevent her from hurting herself.

Though, she didn't allow him to help her.

Chan yelped when she launched herself at him, fingers locking around his neck tightly and squeezing harshly. He gasped brokenly—she had kicked the air out of his lungs, and the way she looked at him with those weird, abnormally colored and bright eyes, blood covering her whole face, wasn't helping him to gather his strength and push her away.

He frantically tried to loosen her hold around his neck, digging his nails into the skin of her arm—though, that seemed not to affect her at all despite the blood that appeared underneath Chan's fingers, rolling down in thin, dark streams. She kept her eyes locked on Chan's ones, her hold around his neck tightening until the boy felt his eyes starting to roll back and vision becoming blurry. Chan couldn't push her away—she was stronger than him despite her slim, seemingly weak figure. He could feel his lungs screaming for air, but he couldn't provide it.

Chan's ears caught a sound of a car door opening, but it seemed so dull and so far away that it surprised him when he saw someone throw themselves at the woman, taking her by surprise and successfully pushing her off of Chan. He gasped, the air filling his lungs immediately allowing him to get ahold of his senses and catch Changbin's arm—he'd thank him later—shoving the boy in the car. He rushed to the other side of the vehicle, practically jumping in and shutting the door quickly. Chan slammed his foot on the gas with as much force as he had remaining, Changbin's screams of 'go go _go'_ being the only thing echoing in his ears along with the deadly roar of the woman.

The next few minutes were filled with heavy panting coming from both of them, and Changbin's quiet, terrified sobs. This hasn't been something _normal_, something that happened to others. The woman had been attacked by _it_, attacked by that _thing_, and Chan was certain of it.

He coughed awkwardly, rubbing his neck to ease the pain he felt—it would surely bruise; the woman had had an impressively strong hold around it—and parted his lips to talk, to comfort not only Changbin but himself too, to just do _something_—but the younger beat him to it.

"Don't," he whispered. "I trust you now. This is serious."

Chan only nodded, eyes widening as he recalled the scene they'd just gotten out of, an idea forming in his head.

He'd avoided looking around in fear of stumbling across the _thing_—it'd been instinctively, but as Chan realized now, it could have been the very thing that had saved his life. He didn't know if he was right, but he couldn't afford to try out his theory. If it was true, one of them would die.

Or even both. _No_ _one_ was safe.

"Close your eyes," he immediately said, glancing at the younger to make sure he did as he'd been told. "I think that's how it kills, or whatever it does," he explained as he saw Changbin's confused expression. "That woman was perfectly fine—she was looking at her phone, and she was smiling and laughing, I don't know if you saw."

Changbin hummed a sound of agreement.

"Ye-yeah, I saw her too. And after you glanced at me in the car, she went completely crazy. I saw her raise her head and look at something behind the car and then she- uh, she dropped her phone and just- she just jumped in front of the car," Changbin mumbled quietly, eyes shut close. "So I think you could be right."

Chan didn't reply. He focused his attention on the road, ignoring the fear occupying his mind. He could have _seen_ it; he could have seen the same _thing_ the woman had. And then—judging by the things he'd heard on the radio in the morning—he would have killed not only himself, but Changbin too. Only the mere thought of that caused shivers to run down his spine and cold sweat to drip down his forehead.

'I may see it _now,'_ Chan realized. 'I may see it as I'm driving. _I could kill Changbin.'_ He couldn't hide the panic that rushed through his body and the way he sucked in a breath, trying to pry the thoughts away. He would be fine. _They_ would be fine.

They just had to get to the house, as impossible as that seemed.

"We're gonna take turns in driving," Changbin suddenly spoke up, startling Chan. "I'm perfectly aware that you're risking your life right now, and I can't allow you to drive all the way to the house solely because I'm terrified. Just wake me up in half an hour," the younger spoke sternly, raising his hand in the air as he heard Chan start to say something to turn his offer down. "No objections, Chan."

"But Binnie-" Chan whined, only to have Changbin cut him off mid-sentence.

"You heard me," the younger mumbled through gritted teeth. "Please just-just drop it."

A distant—but still close enough to have them freeze in fear—sound of a gunshot echoed before Chan could think of an answer. They both visibly tensed, chests clenching and hearts beating so rapidly they could hardly collect their thoughts. Changbin felt his body freeze in fear and he cried out, burying his face in his hands.

"Drive. Drive, drive, just fucking _drive_."

➵

The first thing that threw Chan off was the lack of weight on the bed. He abruptly sat up, hands blindly searching around for the presence of the other boy that was supposed to be there. Failing to feel anything, Chan cautiously opened one eye, heart stopping for a moment as he quickly scanned the room for something dangerous. A low sigh escaped his lips once he made sure it was all clean—at least for now.

Scrambling up from the bed, he hastily slid on a pair of pants, running out of the bedroom without bothering to put on a shirt—after all, there wasn't a living soul around except him and Changbin. He barged into every room their home possessed of and after he searched through the whole house at least twice, he concluded that Changbin should be outside.

He pursed his lips, trying not to worry about why his boyfriend had decided to leave the house without warning him—it was unusual for either of them to do that in such dangerous circumstances. Changbin would have to do some explanation.

Shaking off his thoughts, Chan swiftly—not enough to hide the way he trembled in fear—approached the front door of the house that Changbin and him had been living in for the past two long, agonizing years.

Grabbing his one from the two blindfolds resting on the hanger, Chan hurried to tie the thin piece of fabric around his eyes while slipping on his sneakers. He didn't bother with the shoelaces, leaving them to flap around freely while taking in hand the stick he used when he had to go outside, and with a deep breath, he pressed down the door's handle. Chan walked out in the open, shivering from the cold morning breeze, and focused his attention on taking notice of all the sounds that he could.

"Changbin!" he called out in a hushed tone, hoping that his boyfriend was somewhere close enough to hear him—he didn't fancy the thought of raising his voice. With his vision being blocked, he had no idea what could be around—there could be wild, starving animals, or even worse. There could be one of _them_—were they some kind of creatures? Were they a spirit?

Chan didn't know—he'd just decided to use the term 'creatures' due to the lack of a better word and the fact that for all the years of living like this, neither Changbin nor he managed to figure out what the thing attacking them was and if it even had an actual body. Chan preferred it to stay that way, though.

He couldn't think about it right now, though. He had a boyfriend to find.

Chan cursed under his breath after not receiving a reply—he feared that something bad had happened. Inspecting the air in front of him in case there were any obstacles, he moved forward with small steps, calling Changbin's name again—only to be met with a wall of silence.

"I'm gonna kill him," he mumbled quietly to himself, running a hand through his blond locks. With a sigh, he parted his lips once more, ready to shout his boyfriend's name for the third time—only to stop himself the moment it would've rolled off his tongue.

Something was _wrong_.

He gulped anxiously as he felt the air behind him move, and he could practically hear the way everything quieted down—it was as if the world was dead.

Chan half-wished it could stay like that as a second later he heard _them_. _The_ _whispers_. So quiet yet _so_ _loud_, causing the frightened boy to shiver in fear.

He'd heard a lot about them while the radio in the house worked—or, while the people were still alive to keep it running. Nearly everyone seemed to hear weird whispers and words spoken in a language no one could understand just mere moments before the smell of blood and death filled the air—and a few were the ones that had escaped whatever was the thing that made the sounds, all thanks to being hidden and having their eyes tightly shut.

No one was able to tell how the creature killed. All they knew was that just one look at it made people go crazy and murder everyone around them, taking their own lives in the end too. If there were survivors, it was because they'd hidden behind something in order to save themselves from the person who'd gone crazy. None of them knew what actually happened—there were thousands of rumors circling around, each worse than the previous one. Though, even after years of living like this, someone had yet to see what the truth was—and survive afterward, of course.

That was probably what scared Chan the most. The oblivion. The thought of not knowing what the world was facing and hiding from, and not having anything to save themselves from it except a thin piece of fabric to cover their sight.

Chan inhaled choppily, tensing up and squeezing his eyes shut. He'd never really trusted the blindfold to protect him from the creature—it _was_ just a thin piece of fabric, after all.

He swallowed dryly, finally gaining the courage to turn around. The boy raised the stick he was holding, nearly dropping the piece of wood due to how sweaty and shaky his hands had gotten, and waved it in front of him.

Nothing. There was nothing there.

Letting out a silent breath, he shook his head in an attempt to pry away whatever had gotten into him—and, realizing that he could hear the sounds of nature again, concluded that it was probably his mind playing tricks on him because he was worried about Changbin's absence. Chan had never woken up to an empty bed in the two years they'd spend here, and it was normal to feel scared.

So yeah, it was probably just his imagination making everything scarier than it actually was.

Finally regaining his ability to think clearly, Chan called out Changbin's name again, wanting to find the younger boy already and go back inside—even if really nothing had happened, he couldn't help the shivers running down his spine and he didn't want to stay outside for even a second more. He felt vulnerable, not knowing when something might attack —whether it be the creature or some wild animal—and he doubted he'd be able to defend himself too. Not being able to use his sight meant that he was easy prey for everything as he was pretty much defenseless.

With the lack of responses from the boy he was searching for, Chan's worry was increasing, along with his anger, and he thought that he really should have a talk with his boyfriend once—_if_—he managed to find him. He called out his name again, this time louder than usual—only to have the other boy cut him off mid-word.

"Stop shouting. I'm here." Changbin's tone was unusually cold, with a tint of annoyance and lower than what Chan knew. There was something raspy, weird, not Changbin-like in the way he spoke, but Chan was too busy feeling relieved that he found him to notice it—something that was absolutely not like his observant, careful nature.

The older moved towards the direction the voice came from, grinning slightly once his stretched out hand made contact with the soft locks of Changbin's hair, to which the boy responded with a grunt, moving his head away from his lover's palm.

Chan decided not to say anything, instead opting to grab Changbin's hand and attempting to drag him inside. He was surprised to feel the younger snatching his hand away, and he could hear him huff—lips probably forming a pout as usual when Changbin was annoyed.

"What's wrong, Binnie?" Chan hummed, sitting down next to the boy and wrapping an arm around Changbin's small figure. He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion: once he touched his lover, Chan felt an uncomfortable weight in his chest that he'd never experienced before. He decided to brush it off this time—it was probably the fear that came with being out in the open, he thought.

Chan frowned as Changbin tensed, flinching away from his hold, but didn't question it. Maybe his lover wasn't in the mood for skinship, who knew. It was unusual for someone as cuddly as Changbin, but it wasn't impossible—was it?

'Stop it, Chan. Get a hold of yourself,' the blond boy cursed at himself, shaking the toxic thoughts out of his mind and turning his attention to the other boy—just in time to hear his answer.

"Nothing's wrong. Just wanted some fresh air, I guess. It's summer and it was hot in the room."

Chan nodded his head, replying with a 'yes' once he remembered that Changbin couldn't see it. It was indeed summer—and the weather here got extremely hot at times—so why was cold sweat covering his body? He didn't know, and perhaps he didn't want to.

"Okay, but how about we head back inside? I feel...weird." Chan couldn't forget the moment in which he'd felt something behind him, and it was making him squirm around anxiously, afraid of experiencing it again. It wasn't a pleasant feeling too, so he'd rather avoid it.

"Why? Everything is fine." Changbin spoke, voice dreamy, taking Chan off-guard—where was that cold, harsh tone the younger had used just seconds ago?

The blond was almost certain that something was indeed not okay. He had to check on Changbin as soon as possible, but in order to do that, he had to take both of them inside. Though, knowing how stubborn Changbin usually was, that would be a hard task.

Chan decided not to comment on the voice Changbin had used, too afraid of what the answer might be—plus, it could just be Changbin joking around or feeling sleepy. 'It _has_ happened before,' Chan thought as he tried to reassure himself.

"I felt something...strange. While I was searching for you. I don't think we should stay outside right now, maybe in the next couple of days too. We have enough supplies for a few more weeks anyway, so can we please go back to the house? Please? For me?" He hated how high his voice had gotten from the fear, but that wasn't the important thing right now.

Chan bounced his leg up nervously, and let out a yelp when Changbin's hand gripped the tense flesh of his thigh, pressing it down in order to stop Chan's movements.

"Relax, it's okay. Let's go, if you want that so much," the raven-haired boy mumbled quietly, but the words echoed in Chan's ears so loud it had him wincing in surprise before Changbin stood up, taking his hand and bringing the blond male along with him.

The older felt his lover dragging him forward at a concerning pace—he was walking way too fast, causing Chan's expression to shift from amusement to worry and then fear.

"Munchlax, shouldn't you slow down a bit? Cause, you know, neither of us can _see_, remember?" Chan stumbled slightly as Changbin froze in his spot with an amused hum.

"Oh, yeah. You're...right, I suppose." The younger whispered the last part under his breath, and whether it was a good or bad thing that Chan didn't hear him, no one would know. "Just wanted to go back in the house faster. You told me that you felt weird—I didn't want to make you stay outside any longer." Changbin's voice shifted from his usual tone to the dreamy, soft one he'd used couple minutes ago and Chan grew more and more confused with every word his lover spoke.

"I- yeah, I guess I did. But if you don't slow down, we could stumble over something." Changbin's hold on Chan's hand tightened, and he began walking again—this time slower, much to the elder's relief.

Once back inside, Chan fumbled with the key, locking him and his boyfriend in the place they'd spend the majority of the past two years before quickly taking off his blindfold, placing it on the hanger next to the door where they usually kept them.

He turned around, about to follow Changbin in the room he'd gone to when his eyes fell across a purple fabric hanging on the half-broken hanger. It was his lover's blindfold, and Chan felt like something wasn't okay.

He stared at the thing, scrunching his nose—why did he feel like he saw it hanging there earlier when he went out to search for Changbin? "That's impossible, Chan," the boy mumbled to himself, "Changbin's not that dumb to go out without a blindfold on."

Yet, the thought couldn't leave his mind. Judging from how fast the younger had been walking when they were out, and the fact that Chan hadn't seen him take it off when they got inside, it wasn't _impossible_—but that could be because the blond was too busy locking the door, and Changbin never liked wearing blindfolds; he took them off the second they were safe inside, too fast for Chan to be able to see anything.

"Stop doubting him. Changbin knows better than to go out without something protecting his eyes," Chan mentally slapped himself, shaking his head and making his way to the kitchen where his lover was in the middle of preparing breakfast.

And, as Chan locked eyes with him—blinking just in time not to notice the strange, almost demonic way Changbin's irises lit up—he thought with relief that they would be _fine_.

➵

After that day, Chan had managed to talk Changbin out of leaving the house without warning him—even though it had only happened once, it made him feel uneasy and anxious not knowing what could happen to the younger boy. And, well, it seemed as if Changbin had no problem with that—though, ever since that day, he'd gotten quieter and it was no unusual thing for Chan to walk in on him reading the same book over and over again or doodling weird things on a piece of paper he'd found.

Changbin never showed him the drawings— he always shoved them in the fireplace before Chan could stop him, and watched them burn with glistening eyes. The older often saw Changbin's irises change their color, going from the usual dark brown to red, yellow, and sometimes even green and blue—but Chan thought that it was just a trick of the fire's light or his own eyesight getting poorer with time, and didn't comment on it.

Sometimes, he asked Changbin why he never showed him the drawings, to which the younger boy just smiled sweetly. "They're just too poorly drawn, Channie," was the excuse he gave most of the time, turning his attention back to the fire or the paper, if he was drawing. Chan didn't feel the need to find out what the art was if his boyfriend was uncomfortable with showing it—plus it was an adorable sight to see the small boy squished in a chair, tongue stuck out—so Chan only handed him a cup of tea or some snacks (that were probably way out of date, but they didn't have a choice if they wanted to avoid dying from hunger) and didn't pry—as he probably should have.

Though, Chan couldn't lie that when one day he woke up to an empty bed again, he wasn't surprised. He had been expecting it somehow, and this time he didn't waste time in searching around the house—the boy was pretty sure that Changbin would be outside, plus, if he wasn't, Chan would be able to hear him rustling around the house.

The blond male got up from the bed with a grunt, taking his time with dressing up—which was still pretty fast; living in such conditions, you had no choice but to adapt and to improve your skills even if it was something as small as putting your clothes on. Soon enough, he found himself walking out of the front door while carelessly tying his blindfold around his eyes and shutting the door with his foot, not even bothering to lock it. This was very _not_ Chan-like, but he had his eyes squeezed shut, so it wasn't much of a big deal, was it? Plus, if the creatures—or whatever they were—wanted, they could probably kill him even when he had a blindfold on, _couldn't_ they?

Chan stopped in his tracks, running a hand through his messy hair. Thoughts like these had started to cross his mind frequently, and he didn't like it nor did he know why. He had a vague memory of it starting to happen after the time Changbin left the house without informing him, but he was unsure of it. Losing control of his thoughts was frustrating for someone like him – not only couldn't he pry such ideas out of his head, but he'd also found out that he lost control over his _actions_ at times and only managed to get on his senses when his hands were gripping the newspapers taped on the windows, ready to tear them down and expose him and Changbin to the dangers outside.

He was scared. He was scared out of his wits and he was pretty sure the fear would accompany him for as long as this whole thing—was it an apocalypse?—went on for. It wasn't as if he wasn't terrified before, no. But the first months, the first couple _years_, he hadn't once let his guard down, and being in such position, having to be aware of everything surrounding you if you wanted to last the next day, it was horrifying for him to realize that something took over his body at times.

Chan didn't know what it was. It wasn't a spirit—it wasn't anything, really, if he had to think about it. It was his _mind_—luring him in, telling him things that caused Chan to forget everything he'd been taught or he'd learned himself, making him do things that 'normal' Chan would never do, and the blond-haired boy didn't know for how long he'd be able to keep up with this. The only good thing about this situation? His lover hadn't noticed anything—_yet_.

Changbin, unlike Chan, really did seem to be doing just fine. Aside from the unusual quietness, the short male appeared to be content with his life, even getting quite happy at times at the smallest things such as going out to get some water from the well nearby or search around for food—thankfully, despite them living in one of the smaller villages in the country, there was a fair amount of houses and even a few supermarkets close enough for them to keep them well fed—plus, they had learned how to set up traps and grow vegetables. It wasn't the best food and they could never eat as much as they wanted to, but that wasn't much of a big deal in such circumstances. They were alive, and that's the only thing that mattered.

So yes, he thought while walking slowly towards the spot he had in mind, it wasn't Changbin that Chan was worried for. It was _himself_.

And—just as expected—his boyfriend was sat in the same place like the first time he'd gone out without telling Chan, humming some tune softly. The older listened to him for a while, but Changbin had heard him approaching a long time ago—having to only use their hearing the majority of the time, said sensory had improved greatly; both of them were able to hear a leaf fall of the tree outside while they were still in their house, hidden behind the seemingly safe walls of the small building.

Chan felt soft fingers wrap around his wrist and pull him down to sit, and he obliged. This time he hadn't felt a presence like last time, so he didn't mind spending some time outside with his lover.

It was rather calm and lovable, if he had to be honest. The feeling of Changbin's small body cuddled against his side, his quiet hums, the happy chirps of the birds—at least the sane ones; the creature affected animals too, as Chan had found out—were helping the blond boy relax, arm wrapped around the younger's shoulders loosely, and he could probably fall asleep like this if it wasn't for the pair of lips finding his own ones, molding together in a sweet kiss.

"You love me, don't you?" Changbin spoke into Chan's mouth, and the older felt his boyfriend squeeze his thigh harshly, almost possessively, but he paid no mind to it—just as he didn't notice that the younger's voice had gone back to that dreamy, high-pitched one that was very _not_-Changbin.

"Yeah, I do," he breathed out, the words coming out as a purr as Changbin pressed their bodies closer, hands gripping Chan's biceps tightly while the older had his palms resting on the raven-haired boy's waist. His chest felt heavy as he felt Changbin smirk into the kiss, and Chan was too lost in the boy's lips to notice that it wasn't in the good kind of way.

"Good." And with that, Changbin pulled away, leaving Chan to chase after his lips. "Let's go back inside, Channie," he giggled, pressing a small kiss on Chan's cheek. The blond male furrowed his eyebrows at that but scrambled up almost immediately, taking a hold of Changbin's hand and guiding them back towards the house carefully.

Once back in the deceptive safety of the place they called home, Chan wasn't surprised to see Changbin's blindfold hanging from its place on the handle, and that the boy was already somewhere in the house in the matter of seconds. He followed him soon after, ruffling his hair and yawning—it had been a while since the last time he managed to sleep well. The tiredness was probably also a factor as to why he felt he had no control over himself, but he didn't want to think about that right now.

Instead, he skipped over to the living room where Changbin had went to, not before grabbing two glasses and a bottle of wine they'd been lucky enough to find during their last food-hunt.

"Why were you outside this time?" Chan popped the cap open, pouring a fair amount of the blood-red liquid in both their glasses before turning towards his boyfriend to hand him one of them—and freezing in his spot the moment his eyes landed on the younger.

Changbin was standing in the middle of the room, staring at the window, and Chan felt like the younger could see right through the newspapers taped to it. The thought sent chills down his spine, especially when Changbin didn't reply to his question.

"Munchlax?" He stuttered out, licking his lips anxiously and approaching his boyfriend carefully. Changbin turned his head around, stone-like expression present on his face, throwing Chan off-guard, and—were his eyes _glowing_?

If Chan had been scared before, it was nothing compared to the fear he felt now. This was not _normal_, this was not _Changbin_, and that was proved when the boy spoke up with a disgustingly sweet voice and a strange, frightening smile painted on his lips.

"Yes, Channie?" Chan felt his blood run cold, and he made one step back that soon turned into two, three, _four_, but Changbin made no move to follow him.

"Cha-Changbin? What's going o-on?" The panic in his voice was obvious, and he felt tears prickling at his eyes, but he refused to let them spill.

Chan didn't know just what had happened—one second his lover was looking at him with a demonic-like expression, and the next, he was back to the normal Changbin, somehow looking smaller than usual. Chan watched him look around in confusion before his eyes landed on the blond boy, and didn't move from his spot when the younger lunged forward and wrapped his arms around Chan's waist.

"Are you okay?" It was Changbin's well-being that always came in the first place. Chan was dying to find out what had happened moments before, but he wanted to make sure that the boy that was currently attached to him was okay.

"Yeah, Channie." Changbin's tone was still unusual, dreamy, like the first time things had felt extraordinary. It still made Chan shiver at the memory of the creature's presence, but surely it couldn't be in the house—if it was, they would feel it immediately. Or that was what Chan hoped for.

He felt himself getting drowsy all of a sudden, eyelids heavy and begging to close, and his body slouched slightly, his grip around Changbin loosening. The younger noticed that, smiling mischievously to himself before looking up at his lover through his eyelashes, and raised himself on his tiptoes to place a kiss on the side of Chan's mouth. "You're tired. Maybe that's why you think something's wrong."

Chan nodded. "Yeah, it could be. But I thought I saw-" Changbin cut him off with a kiss, and the older relaxed into it, sucking in a breath when the raven-haired boy attached his lips to Chan's neck.

"It's just your imagination, Channie," the younger smiled, and Chan nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, it's just my imagination, you're right," he heard himself reply, muffling a yawn.

Changbin seemed satisfied with the answer. "That's right, baby—nothing's wrong, you just need sleep," he whispered with a hushed tone in his ear, and Chan couldn't help but shiver uncomfortably—things still felt off. But he really needed sleep—he could barely keep himself standing up, and the thought of a nice, warm bed seemed tempting right now.

Chan let his lover lead them to the bedroom and pull him down on the mattress. He grinned as the younger climbed on top of him, cuddling into his chest with a content hum. Changbin looked up at him, smiling softly and giving him a little wink at which Chan chuckled, wrapping an arm around the boy's waist.

The two of them stayed like that for a while, and yet again, Chan thought that everything was fine, or at least that it would be. Changbin was right—it was all Chan's imagination and paranoia that were playing tricks on him. And if something was really wrong—which the blond boy was heavily doubting by this point—they'd be fine. They'd gone through hell together—what stopped them from doing it again if necessary?

And, just like last time, Chan buried his face in Changbin's hair just in time to miss the evil smirk that appeared on the younger's face, eyes lighting up again and looking at the window above the bed with determination.

➵

Chan didn't know what woke him up. It was either the chirping of the birds or the loud crack that came from the nearby forest, probably caused by a large animal—it was a miracle that there were any that were still alive—or, he could also have been woken up by that annoying ray of sunshine that fell _right_ on top of his face, and more specifically his eye.

He grunted grumpily, throwing the blankets over his head, not wanting to get up just yet. His thoughts were occupied by a weird dream he'd just had, and at first, Chan didn't realize that something—_everything_—was wrong.

A cold breeze that entered the room, making him shiver, was what had him freezing up, breath dying in his throat. The _wind? _A ray of_ sunshine?_ Since when could they appear _inside_ the house?

Chan sat up abruptly, losing control of his thoughts for a second and forgetting to close his eyes. The sight that appeared in front of him was, to say the least, _terrifying_.

Scattered newspapers, after being torn off of the windows, covered the room and the mattress, crinkling from the slight breeze. The small space was in chaos with all its possessions scrambled around in a mess of clothes, photos, and even souvenirs that Chan had been bringing here through the years when he had been younger and visiting his grandparents. The door seemed as if someone broke through it, only barely hanging on the hinges.

And—probably the most frightening of all—the windows were wide open, with nothing to protect the poor house and its habitants from the dangers that waited outside.

Chan hadn't recovered from the initial shock when a loud scream pierced his ears and had him scrambling off the bed, running blindly through the house in a matter of seconds. "Changbin!" he called desperately, trying not to let himself panic. His boyfriend needed him, and he couldn't give in to the fear. Not now, not in such crucial moment when both of them were left exposed to the creatures.

He contemplated if he should put on a blindfold—if the creature was strong enough to ruin the house that much, a thin piece of fabric wouldn't be able to stop it. Though in the end, he did tie one around his eyes, running out of the small building and praying that him and Changbin would somehow make it out alive—which, as he concluded, seemed nearly impossible.

The blond boy shoved every thought aside—he'd worry about that later. Now, he had to save his lover—the task was hard enough even without his mind being occupied with worries.

"Changbin!" The younger hadn't replied the first time, and without his voice, Chan wasn't able to figure out in which way he should go. He couldn't risk opening his eyes—if one of the creatures was near, he'd stand no chance if his gaze fell upon it, and both him and Changbin would be doomed.

A fit of giggles coming from his left captured Chan's attention and he snapped his head to the side, lunging forward once he made sure that they were coming from his boyfriend. He leaned down, searching the space in front of him with outstretched arms and hushed whispers—even if the creatures weren't here, which was nearly impossible, any other loud sound he made could attract the wild animals; and they were surely starving from the lack of food—two young, practically blind boys could do them very well. Chan shivered at the thought, only relaxing a bit once his fingers met a warm, smooth surface that turned out to be Changbin's cheek.

"Oh my- _Binnie_," he sobbed out, only now noticing the tears streaming down his cheeks. "Are you okay? Did they hurt you? What even happened here? I woke up and the windows were-"

Changbin interrupted him with a sickly-sweet laugh. "Ah, Channie, you're so oblivious," he ushered, voice dripping from his lips like honey. "They would _never_ hurt me."

Chan froze in his spot, tongue darting out to wet his lips. "Wha-what are you talking about, Munchlax?" His heart had skipped a few beats in fear, and was now slamming against his ribcage at an enormous speed—Chan was pretty sure that it could be heard from miles away.

"But of course, you don't know," Chan could hear the pout that adorned the boy's lips as he mumbled those words. "They are _harmless_, Channie. They are so nice compared to what people say they are. They're so _beautiful_, Channie," Changbin's tone was still as airy and disgustingly sweet as the first time Chan had heard him talk like that, with the little difference that it had never made the older's flesh crawl like that.

"Y-you don't know what you're talking about. Let's just go home and start taping the windows shut, can we?" Chan asked, hoping to receive a positive answer and head back to the deceptive safety of the small wooden building.

Chan heard the younger shift his position—probably turning around to face him – before he spoke up. "You want to ruin all my hard work?" Changbin clicked his tongue in disapproval. "That's quite unfortunate because I won't do it, and neither will you."

The older furrowed his eyebrows, seemingly lost in thought. "Wait. Are you telling me that it was you who ripped the newspapers from the windows and messed up the whole house?"

Changbin's playful chuckle was enough to answer his question, making Chan grow more and more confused. "Yes, it was me. I wasted all night on this while you were sleeping, Channie, the least you can do is appreciate it." The last part of the sentence came out as a hiss, and Chan unknowingly took a step back.

"Don't run away from me, Channie," the younger whined, cold fingers locking around Chan's wrist. "Come with me, I want you to _see_ _them_."

The blond boy felt the blood drain from his face. "T-them?" was all he could make out, struggling against Changbin's iron hold.

"Yes, Channie. They're beautiful, oh so _beautiful_. You'll regret not seeing them sooner..." Changbin sighed dreamily, dragging the other boy with him, seemingly not bothered by Chan's struggles to break free.

"Changbin, please stop, this isn't funny—"

"I'm dead serious, Channie. I wasted a long time studying them when I should have just made you face them. They're beautiful, Chan," he repeated for the third time, voice low and hissing. "Look, here they are!" Changbin exclaimed with childlike excitement, his hold on Chan's wrist weakening enough for the older boy to be able to break free.

Chan didn't do it, though. He didn't know what was wrong, and frankly he didn't care about that right now—the only thing chanting in his mind being 'get Changbin and run home get Changbin and run home _get Changbin and run home._' Leaving the younger behind wasn't an option, not when they had survived for so long together and definitely not when Chan's love towards him was so strong.

The blond male sniffed, fighting back the tears that were threatening to spill any second now, and raised his hand to cup Changbin's face softly. He didn't know what to do, what to _say_—he simply wanted everything to go back to how it used to be.

He felt Changbin shift uncomfortably under his palm, but stayed in place, much to Chan's surprise—he'd half expected him to jerk away. But there was no time to think about that now, with Chan's anxiety reaching concerning levels and the feeling—the _knowledge_—that they were being watched by those creatures. He had to get them out of here. "Munchlax, please, you don't know what you're talking about—"

Chan cut himself off mid-sentence, noticing yet another thing that was wrong. He raised his other arm, running his fingers through Changbin's face, brows knitted together in confusion—yet, his suspicions were proved correct. The thin piece of fabric he'd expected to feel tied around his boyfriend's eyes was absent.

"Changbin," he breathed out rapidly, "Changbin_, where is your blindfold?"_

The boy chuckled darkly, and Chan felt him shake his head, prying the elder's hands away from his face. "I don't need one, Channie. It's been ages since I last put it on, and it's so much better like this." the younger sighed happily. "Now I can _see_, Channie. I can see _them_, and it's amazing."

Chan inhaled sharply, fighting back a sob. "So I was ri-right after all. E-ever since you left the house without w-warning me, you haven't been wearing it. Even if we were to-together searching for food."

Changbin hummed in agreement. "It took you so long to notice, Channie. So..._unnatural_ of you."

It was probably that word that ticked Chan off, and he grasped Changbin's wrist, trying to drag the boy towards the vandalized building. "Never-never mind that now. Let's just get home, it's safe there, and we'll figure how-how to fix this. _Please_, Binnie." His pleads were met with a mocking snicker from the shorter, and Chan felt the boy's hand slide away from his hold.

"No, Chan." His firm, low voice scared the older who froze in place—there was no sign of that annoyingly sweet tone Changbin had used the past couple months.

That short sentence was what finally got the truth to finally sink_. This wasn't Changbin_. This wasn't the shy, overly-nice kid Chan had met all those years ago and fallen in love with. Something had taken control of Changbin's mind, and Chan should have seen it coming. He _really_ should have.

Just as the younger had confirmed, ever since the first time Changbin went outside without letting him know, nothing had been the same. There had been so many signs, so many warnings, yet Chan ignored them all, hoping that it was just his mind playing tricks on him, running away like a coward, not wanting to let the scary truth sink in.

And _this_ is where his stubbornness and fear had brought them. It was all Chan's fault—he should have known better; he should have acted upon noticing all the things that were not okay.

How many times did he see Changbin's eyes glow? Or hear his voice change? And notice the way he hid his drawings from Chan? How many more _signs_ had Chan brushed off in fear of accepting that something was _wrong_?

How many times did he see the dust covering Changbin's—obviously unused in ages—blindfold despite the fact that they both were forced to go outside almost daily?

He knew that he should have confronted Changbin the first time things had seemed off—but it was too late now.

Chan's thoughts were interrupted as he was roughly pulled forward by a pair of hands—his boyfriends' ones—and he remembered that he should be saving Changbin and himself from whatever was happening.

"There is nothing we should be safe from," the younger suddenly spoke up. "Don't you _get_ it?" Chan took a step back, gulping at the way Changbin spoke—he could feel the boy's breath on his face: hot, toxic, _terrifying_. "They are harmless, Chan. If you only saw them, you would know," he mumbled, cold fingers caressing Chan's cheek until they roughly grasped his chin as Changbin whispered in his ear.

"You're lucky I can help you with that."

Chan's mind, being a mess of fear, panic, obliviousness, and even a slight tint of curiosity, didn't register the last sentence that slipped from Changbin's mouth until he felt fingers sliding under his blindfold. He barely had time to squeeze his eyes shut before Changbin harshly tore the fabric off, throwing it somewhere far judging from the distant sound it made as it landed.

"Come on, Channie, open your eyes," the younger giggled, hands cupping Chan's face. "Open your eyes and _see_."

The older inhaled sharply as he felt nails digging into his skin, but he fought the urge to comply and kept his eyes firmly closed. Even a small peek would be deadly, and he knew it—the unnatural silence had been present for a while, along with the hushed, strange whispers. The creatures were _here_, surrounding him and Changbin, and Chan couldn't – quite literally—see a way out of this.

Though, the lack of obedience seemed to anger the younger who roughly pulled Chan down by the collar of his shirt to whisper against his lips. "Open your eyes or I will do it myself."

Chan shook his head frantically, mumbling 'no' over and over and trying to push the smaller boy off of him. It was obvious that Changbin had lost it completely once he'd looked at the creatures—for some reason, he hadn't gone crazy, killing off both of them as everyone else would. They affected him differently, and Chan hadn't expected it at all—the only time he'd heard about something like that was minutes before their radio had stopped working.

He had no idea if this was curable, and what was actually happening—though, that wasn't the right moment for Chan to think about that. He had a much larger problem right now, and he wouldn't get out of it if he didn't collect himself enough to find a solution, he'd die—either after being forced to look at the creatures or slaughtered by something.

It would be fatal if he as much as took the tiniest peek at one of them. Maybe that's what Changbin wanted—for Chan to die? The older didn't know how his mind worked right now, and just why did Changbin want Chan to look at them that bad. Though, there was no way that he would do it.

"I-I'm not gonna do it, I can't," he stumbled over his words, raising his arms in an attempt to cover his face with his palms—only to have them slapped away by the other man.

"Yes you can, and you will. _I'll_ make sure you do." Chan cried out in pain as he felt Changbin's fingers forcibly trying to get him to open his eyes, digging his nails in the delicate skin of his eyelids.

"Stop- stop, it hurts!" he screamed, walking backwards in hopes of getting away from Changbin—only to stumble over his feet and fall on the ground. Changbin wasted no time in straddling him to keep Chan's body in place as he kept trying to get the boy to open his eyes.

"Come on, Channie, this could be so much easier if you just listened to me," he mumbled through gritted teeth before digging his knee in Chan's stomach. The older gasped, body stilling for a second before he took advantage of the fact that he was stronger than Changbin—or at least stronger than normal Changbin—and pushed the other boy off of him, attempting to run away.

And this time, he didn't reach out for Changbin's hand.

Somehow, he knew that his Changbin was no longer here, and that he'd never have him back. It didn't make the situation any easier—in fact, it made his mind work slower because it kept chanting 'he's gone he's gone he's _gone'_ and it was very distracting. If Chan didn't collect his thoughts, it would result in his death.

Chan cried out as he felt something heavy—a rock?—hit his back harshly, sending him crashing on the ground. The collision kicked the air out of his lungs and before he could take a breath and try to stand up, Changbin was once more on top of him—this time, the younger's hands made their way to Chan's neck, applying so much pressure to it that if Chan hadn't known that already, he'd realize that Changbin wasn't normal anymore.

The older sobbed, tears covering his entire face and pain rushing through his whole body. He wanted this to be over, he didn't want to fight anymore, he _couldn't _fight anymore, especially not his lover of all people. He tried raising his arms to try to push the other off of him, but the lack of oxygen weakened him to an extent.

He barely heard Changbin snicker above him.

"Just open your eyes, and I'll let you go, Channie," the younger giggled, pressing down even more and—even though Chan wasn't aware of it—admiring the way his lover struggled underneath him, tears and dirt adorning his face along with blood emerging from the multiple cuts on the skin.

Chan couldn't do it anymore. He couldn't fight, he couldn't breathe, he couldn't live.

But he couldn't die either.

He wasn't ready for that just yet. Or ever, actually.

Gathering the last few drops of power remaining in his body—thankfully something called adrenalin existed that was on his side—Chan managed to push Changbin aside, earning himself a startled yelp from the boy and an unsatisfied whisper from the things surrounding them.

This time Chan didn't run, though. He had no chance in escaping Changbin when his eyes were closed and he had no idea what was surrounding them—it would take a matter of seconds for him to stumble over a rock or run into a tree.

As much as it pained him, Chan knew that there was only one thing he could do to escape. It was frightening him more than everything that had happened, but it was really his only option to live to see the next day.

So he ignored the panic and guilt that rushed through his body and after aimlessly waving his arms around to locate where Changbin had fallen, he scrambled on top of the other boy. He felt the younger's body moving in an attempt to shake him off, but to no avail.

With tears streaming down his cheeks and crying out a chant of 'I'm sorry''s, Chan's fingers found Changbin's throat and locked around it, just as the younger had done to him earlier. Chan squeezed as hard as he could, sobs growing more and more violent with every second and with every twitch of Changbin's body underneath him.

And, with a final harsh squeeze, Chan felt Changbin still underneath him.

➵

It was a routine.

Get up—if you could—mindlessly try to feel the bed for your lover before you remembered that he was _gone_—and that it was _your _fault—, ignore the guilt filling your mind and open your eyes, not caring if something could be inside, not caring if one of the creatures was actually in the house. Listen to the silence that was so painfully _obnoxious_, so visibly _everywhere_ around you it made your heart swell, and, after wiping the few tears slipping from your eyes, check if the newspapers and blankets were still safely taped to the walls—if you bothered enough to do it.

The next day was the same. And the next one. And the one after it, the cycle repeating over and over until you went _crazy_.

It was a routine. And Chan didn't care about routines anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> so,, opinions?? tips?? id like to hear anything you might have to say !! 
> 
> (spoiler if you havent read it) i actually planned to kill both of them but in the end i decided to kill just one because itd hurt more cause angst>>>>
> 
> im also open to answering any questions!! <3
> 
> my [twt](https://twitter.com/piratekangs) | [curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/yeosangly) if ya want them


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